Best Unsullied Poems
I want to feel my whole world burst,
see scintillating stars dispersed
across a vast unsullied sky
the sapphire blue of my mind’s eye
when life was fresh and untraversed.
I want to jump again. . . headfirst
into the ocean, be immersed
as passion’s billows multiply.
I want to feel!
Wake up, my heart! I WANT that thirst,
expect the best and not the worst,
to have my breath be stopped - to cry
for heartbreak’s sake - not stop to sigh
with rue that Fate can’t be reversed.
. . . I want to feel.
Categories:
unsullied, emotions,
Form:
Rondeau
As the tides slowly recede
Remnants left upon the shore
Reflecting beneath the sunlight
That bathes them now, from beyond the once obscure depths
Shimmering and glistening, souvenirs to soon be found and held
By the eager eyes of a childs tender hands
Whom shall rescue them, from their once solitude
No longer their existence without a purpose
For a gleeful heart will bring them home
To be treasured, for countless years to come
And the tales which they shall both then share
Within the smiling whispers amid the night
Innocence of purities never ceasing hearts
Still capable of dreaming, all things beautiful and true
Enchatings impossible, beyond the imaginaries of hope
Stories from the waters, that washed them across all time
Into the warmth of a perfect child
That breathed the breath of belonging, for them both
Through the many magical wonders, of unsullied sight
Thousands of years upon their journies, to this destiny they have arrived
Beneath the glories of Heavens always knowing
Their fate, and their final resting place
In the softness of the endlessness, of the majestical splendors of a child
Where through they crossed these dark and murkened currents, to someday arrive
To be loved within restoration, was their longing and belief
All along as they journied, through this realm of translucent space
This place between nothing, toward these havens of faith
Dlivered from the shadows, into the light of conditions no more
Belonging to their finding, a million stories to be unveiled
To the amazement of a child, whom saw their reason from afar
As with joy they embraced them, and held them close to their heart
Cast upon the shores, glittering treasures beneath this sun
Gathered by the hands, of a perfect one
Beyond the night, it was love, that finally won
The reasons for it all, wrapped eternally, within the purities from above....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Seashell and The Child
Categories:
unsullied, faith, life, lovelonging,
Form:
He came to me with skin like ivory,
although his eyes and hair were dark as night.
He came with one year past his eighteenth year.
I, with one year shy of my adulthood,
was a woman-child with expectations
brimming of romance!
He was my Adonis and I, his virgin Madonna love.
Deep gazes and nibbles on the neck and ear lobes
comprised our innocent foreplay.
The main event of our romantic love
was everything
(yet nothing more than long sweet silken kisses).
Romantic love was chaste,
unsullied by a future for us that never came.
Probably he’d had experience.
I’d never thought to ask,
but he instinctively knew better
than to ask more of me
than in that momet
I was prepared to give.
Nearly half a century since then has passed me by.
I do not know where my Adonis is,
yet here I am now writing poems
about that special night.
Other romances came and went.
Then matrimony bound me to a long-time fidelity.
However, the young Madonna that I was
one beautiful warm September night
appears from time to time inside my poetry
as I reinvent myself as Cinderella
because a chaste romance dwells eternally
in long smooth sweet silken kisses
where ivory perpetual romance prevails.
10/11/18 Inspired by a previous contest I did not get to in time
For Laura Loo's Any New Free Verse Poem Poetry Contest
Categories:
unsullied, romantic love,
Form:
Free verse
He writes to me in curly cues painting
fractals on pressed paper made of rice.
Shreds of simple stalks are beaten to
bare the smoothness of his script.
We have not known each other long
but we have known each other since
man first made fire, the poet and his
muse. His presentation fascinates
with swirls of brush or indian ink
he strokes, both deep and long,
with pleasant pressure most often.
His words though highbrow smack
of pent passions, watering palates
and earthy scents. The wanting so sweet
no reality could fill the expanse, the
oceans of prose, the mountains which
jut provocatively, daring, inviting, the cleats
of man, use pinion and hammer triumphantly
upon the bounty of breast, the thigh of night
the whimper of dawn. Poet preen for your muse
Caress the unsullied parchment whiteness
in the hollow of my neck.
First Published in Pyrokinection May 2013
Categories:
unsullied, muse,
Form:
Free verse
While rambling like a vagabond in a seraphic poetic submersion, in a remote region, witnessed the most captivated sight ever,
a sleeping valley rippled in wild blooms, as sparkling in mystical celestial beam, in the mesas of the clouds, the Dzukou Valley,
a remote dale at the border of Nagaland and Manipur,
in the untrodden tableland of India's Northeast!
The picturesque landscape was ringing with the
once in a lifetime scene of emerald shades of hillocks
paving the way for azure mountaintops,
luminous flowers waving in the winds amongst the tall grasses!
The vale was tweeting and twirling amidst the virgin vegetations enriched with the spectacular sights of verdant forests,
exquisite flora and fauna,
serpentine streams, myriads of panoramic pink
and white wild blooms that dot
the vast caldera of the valley and its' verdant meadows,
alongside the meandering rivers of Dzukou and Japfu,
appeared as the absolute paragon of serenity and tranquility!
Surrounded by the whispering platonic hills,
with numerous colorful flying creatures,
the valley seemed as smuggled over
the dewdrops' fragrant feral fruits,
Oak and Rhododendron forests are a feast to the eyes!
Half way up and any signs of tracks disappear,
and one is just left with wheezing enigmatic bamboo thickets!
Botanists' delight, trackers' paradise, seraph's psyche,
rovers' riddle, is reclining placidly ,
the untrodden earth's lulling lullaby,
in the abode of the divine Lily's
anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
a rich biodiversity hotspots
of endemic species, the Dzoku Valley;
an uninhabited unsullied phosphorus valley
Note:
The Dzüko Valley is located at the borders of the states of Nagaland and Manipur in Northeast India. The valley is known for its extremely rich biodiversity, seasonal flowers and flora & fauna. It is situated at an altitude of 2452 m above sea level.
© Silpika Kalita
Categories:
unsullied, adventure, appreciation, beauty, earth,
Form:
Free verse
oh dear heaven ...
how impeccant …
how subtly innocent and eager!
are you truly as oblivious as you seem?
oh, I am sure of otherwise …
or would there not be so much unsullied skin laid bare -
so few garments that thus adorn the masterpiece?
utter innocence, burning in the motion of your stride ...
a fortuitous feast of flames for the common!
the gods themselves feign deference to such fair symmetry,
and barter the heavens for but a grace of your shadow -
you are pristine virtue, annotated ...
you are torturous fare for the plain and fallow,
and envy for even the inimitable …
innate sensuality trickles from your feathery brow
to your Lilliputian toes, (painted bubblegum pink),
tracing an unblemished dermal landscape
that any hormone-hewn human would consider a dream destination …
you exude a connate allure, inexplicable,
enchanting even the stars -
sky weeping in exquisite anguish for sake of your fluid movement,
saucy, exposed hips,
tossed with coy yet libidinous intent,
their immaculate and fluid rhythm
catching in chests like a cardiac event,
pulling the breath from lungs around you like taffy,
(and not returning without discerned effort),
every gaze in your line swinging in matched tempo,
stupefying all within your affect ...
a mass hypnosis inspired by your walk alone -
ponytail braid and pink ribbon sway in opposite tempo,
adding to the sassy attitude …
eyes, pure white arctic spheres
with polished onyx centers,
set to possess the soul, should they find your focus …
faultless, blue-white smile,
framed by sugar plum lips, shaped to perfect bows ...
oh dear heaven!
such resplendent rapture should they whisper your name!
such divine intoxication should those eyes affix yours!
the gods themselves are weeping wonder ...
the gods themselves!
* SECOND PLACE in the "Free Verse On Love" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Sponsor. *
Categories:
unsullied, appreciation, beauty, metaphor, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
He is my poet friend
I know his voice
through the stroking of his pen
A kind-hearted gentle giant,
who towers above lesser humans
His compassion has made him grow
into a mountain of benevolence
I do not know him personally,
but I feel I know him very well
Kindred spirits
have this unique ability,
we can always tell
one of our own
Possessing hope unsullied ... faith full-blown
He's like a wise king to me,
someone who enjoys walking amongst the people,
more than sitting on his throne
This is why he is my poet friend
I'm soothed by his voice
through the stroking of his pen
Aaah, yes ... his poetry
This distinctive voice is what first attracted me,
made me ponder deep things
Made me laugh at human foibles
with his articulate phrasings
I am humbled that he considers me
as one of his poet friends
This simply reveals the heart of the man,
it's big enough to let most anyone in
A tribute to my beloved friend, Richard Lamoureux
Categories:
unsullied, friend, poets, tribute, voice,
Form:
Free verse
A Gods Eye View of The World
Every form blends and fades
Persistent though
And meaningful
Below from top to bottom slides
Encompassed by
Itself
Describes a purpose
To shift from one to another
And never made less
Than the original
Veins and circulars entwined
Each led to destiny
Between crags and breezes
The formation
Forces of opposition
And tendrils equate
The indefatigable line of being
A mingled sea of light
Transposes through shadow
Arch and rock
Air indivisible
A vibrant salute continues
In a heraldry of birth
Festooned upon the relinquished
A sleeping crown
All appears dancing
A choreography of miniatures
And magnitude beyond thinking
Swift sent of consciousness
Awakened in a tide
Of gesture
And slow somnambulant time
Picks blades or petal
From hair or eye
Thus is its passing
A present unending momentum
Between the washing colour
Of an unseen spectrum
A fluid solidity of dust
On which inscribed imaginations
Pallet of brilliance
Careless even reckless
In its precision of chaos
The full monument of awareness
And spoken singular
Undivided
Unsullied
Stands between feet and sky
Between earth and star
An infinitesimal populace
Of essence and core
Scattered seeds individually planted
To witness
The realms of awe
( Thank you for this poem ).
Categories:
unsullied, imagination, inspirational, mystery, nature
Form:
Free verse
oh dear heaven ...
how impeccant
how subtly innocent and eager
are you truly as oblivious as you seem?
oh, I am sure of otherwise
or would there not be so much unsullied skin laid bare -
so few garments that thus adorn the masterpiece?
utter innocence, burning in the motion of your stride ...
a fortuitous feast of flames for the common
the gods themselves feign deference to such fair symmetry
and barter the heavens for but a grace of your shadow
you are pristine virtue, annotated ...
you are torturous fare for the plain and fallow
and envy for even the inimitable
innate sensuality trickles from your feathery brow
to your Lilliputian toes, (painted bubblegum pink)
tracing an unblemished dermal landscape
that any hormone-hewn human would consider a dream destination
you exude a connate allure, inexplicable
enchanting even the stars -
sky weeping in exquisite anguish for sake of your fluid movement
saucy, exposed hips
tossed with coy yet libidinous intent
their immaculate and fluid rhythm
catching in chests like a cardiac event
pulling the breath from lungs around you like taffy
(and not returning without discerned effort)
every gaze in your line swinging in matched tempo
stupefying all within your affect ...
a mass hypnosis inspired by your walk alone
ponytail braid and pink ribbon sway in opposite tempo
adding to the sassy attitude
eyes, pure white arctic spheres
with polished onyx centers
set to possess the soul, should they find your focus
faultless, blue-white smile
framed by sugar plum lips, shaped to perfect bows ...
oh dear heaven
such resplendent rapture should they whisper your name
such divine intoxication should those eyes affix yours
the gods themselves are sobbing ...
the gods themselves.
Categories:
unsullied, appreciation, beauty, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
Her song carried out in sweetest rapture notes so pellucid
Breathe of them in listened serenity…
Her eyes show the portrait of what truly exists within
A subject of assiduous study…
Bearing witness her ears chronicle every touch of moment
Append her the whisper of ardor…
Those thoughts build stairs to the threshold of her mind
Scale its heights with pure intent…
One unsullied heart in pash heated spirit given to me freely
Held amorously it becomes my own…
I enter her arms into the gateway of tender adoration
Where I sleep safely in serenities peace…
Categories:
unsullied, devotion, hope, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Until the drought of '88
Euphonic sounds adorned his walls,
as he, his wife, and daughter ate
and laughter tripped through carefree halls.
His wife caressed the ivoried keys
until the drought of '88,
their daughter sang with youthful ease;
each day a gift to celebrate.
That baby grand now bears the weight
of dust and silenced dreams once dreamed.
Until the drought of '88,
how strange such silence would have seemed.
Alas, a drunk behind the wheel
cut short his life at 28.
Unsullied joy was ours to feel
until the drought of '88.
In fond memory of my cousin Brian, killed by a drunk driver.
Categories:
unsullied, death, music, sorrow,
Form:
Quatern
I put down my book,
And I picked up the picture,
Of you, that I printed and framed-
Lost in your smile-
I gazed for awhile-
Then said, "You are going insane."
I know I can't have you-
You may not want me...
But we'll never know will we, dear.
Nor stroll hand in hand-
Through the Florida sand-
Alas, all my future is here.
Besides that, I'm older-
With too many miles...
That I've seen as I went down the road;
A rodeo drifter,
A dreamer, a fool,
More oft than I've won, I got throwed.
I'll miss you, my darling...
Do you think of me?
We touched, and of that I am sure...
Perhaps it is better-
That our love stay unmarred,
Platonic,and perfect, and pure.
Reality's shattered...
More daydreams that one.
I'm glad ours will always exist.
A gossamer world-
Unsullied by fact...
We'll walk through the glow and the mist.
Farewell, little darling-
Your smile is so sweet...
Your eyes are two windows alight.
I bask in their glow,
When the lonely winds blow-
And I sit here alone in the night.
Categories:
unsullied, devotion, introspection, lost love,
Form:
Lyric
The young boy happy and contented in life
Sheltered from the real evils of man
Lost in his room with the treasures of adventure
Unbridled dreams tapestry serene summer days
Purity of youth’s innocence in soft blue eyes
This happy child lost in pages upon his bed
Never paying life a second thought
The realization that someday he would pass on
Oh, to be invincible again if only for a moment…
Years flitter by on the winds as they always have
Struggle reared up its eyes all to often
The imagination boy of unsullied venture
Began the transforming journey into the world
The crisp blue eyes of photographed youth
Now a hard gray reflecting scars of strife
The insatiable ardor for living in the moment
Becomes the bittersweet flavor of years gone by
Under the flushing candle his sword now a pen
He writes of looking in the mirror of whetted eyes
Wishing what he believed then, he could grasp now.
Oh, to be invincible again if only for a moment…
Categories:
unsullied, angst, imagination, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Written: October 05, 2023
___________________________________________________________
Where the paradisiacal angels reside.
A myriad of creatures, ebony and betide
A dinkum dissolute and a discreet divine,
A degree of dexterity, a denizen decline
Amidst the mahatmas and zeitgeist calls,
An indweller quests for lyricism thrall.
A martyrdom route, an incubus chase,
Eristic battles in the realm of grace
A proponent of verity, a wraith of anile,
Sought to indwell the hearts of enamel.
A sip of soma, a savor of seraglio supine,
Agnostic beyond, for the geist did shine.
Destructive metempsychosis, a mortal plight,
Internal battles, seeking inspirational light.
In the realm of the departed, desolate cries
A crybaby tears, but awe-inspiring skies
Departed souls, once heartsick and heartsore,
Find solace in the trust they restore.
For in the internal depths, a spark ignites.
And as the decedents rise, their souls bear flight.
Absolve afreets, the anxiousness abides,
Embrace the beatitude; sublimity resides.
Rawness of a sentimentalist, troubadour song,
The immanence of duende is pantywaist wrong.
In the realm of the spiritual, the snarl of sin,
Is replaced by beatitude, the soul's win.
Spotless and unsullied, cleansed of all pain,
The spiritual journey is the ultimate gain.
They sully the cosmic force with opulence.
Yet, the sunny glow of bliss starts radiance.
A troll in the netherworld, forlornness abounds,
In the cognition of theosophy, the soul rebounds.
Categories:
unsullied, analogy, appreciation, birth, death,
Form:
Rhyme
I wish I had...
the power to change
a broken man's circumstances.
I'd flip his dim world
back downside up,
add colors and rays of sunshine to it,
and keep Lady Luck
smiling at him. I'd erase
his misfortune and pull him back up
by his bootstraps.
I wish I had...
the unsullied innocence
of a child;
wide-eyed curiosity,
a complete absence of guile,
unblemished
by transgression,
brimming
with vernal exuberance;
oh, it's like being reborn!
I wish I had...
the ability to resurrect the dead.
I'd bring back my father
and say to him ONE thing
I wish I've said in his living years,
and that is..."Dad, I love you!"
He knew I loved him, you see.
I showed him so many times
and in so many different ways,
but alas, I never told him so.
Categories:
unsullied, desire, introspection, perspective, power,
Form:
Free verse